


You Have Been Left Alone

by MercurialTenacity



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Fingering, Asexual Newt Scamander, Consensual Kink, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Dom/sub, Established Newt/Tina, F/M, Isolation, Master/Pet, Mommy Kink, Multi, Obedience, Objectification, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Prostate Milking, Recovery, Self-Discovery, Under-negotiated Kink, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, co-domming, touch starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 19:50:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10793580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurialTenacity/pseuds/MercurialTenacity
Summary: Ever since Percival came back, it’s been… different.  Distant.  His colleagues respect his boundaries so well, and the only trouble is he doesn’t remember making them.  He thinks, sometimes, that it’s more for their benefit than his.  He doesn’t even know what he was hoping for.  Closeness maybe, or affection.  Trust.He listens to the sounds of Newt and Tina on the other side of the door, and their intimacy burns right through him.  He tips his head back, trying to tell himself it’s enough, trying not to let it cut him to the bone.





	You Have Been Left Alone

Percival’s meeting got out late.  Though considering that it only ran fifteen minutes long instead of forty, he practically got out early.  He walks down the corridor briskly, mind already on the appointments scheduled out over the rest of his day, when he could swear he heard a thump somewhere ahead of him.  He pauses, scanning the corridor, but he’s alone.  He didn’t come from the meeting with anyone else, and there’s no one ahead of him.  He’s about continue on, he only has a few minutes of acceptable lateness before his meeting with Seraphina and the Canadian head of state, but then he hears it again – a scuffing noise, and a scrape like something being bumped into.  He quickly locates the source of the sound as a supply cupboard a couple meters ahead, and he nearly turns the handle to investigate before he hears a voice.

More specifically, he hears Tina’s voice from inside the cupboard.

“No one ever uses this closet, come on.”

Tina, in a cupboard.  With –

“You’ll be late Tina, don’t you have a department meeting?”

With Newt. 

“Well I _do_ , but not for another thirty minutes.  Plenty of time to – _oh._   Oh yes, that.”

Percival should leave.  He should keep walking, or turn around and go back the way he came, because this isn’t for him.  He can hear Tina’s breathing getting heavier, Newt chuckling, and they really should have cast a silencing charm.  Percival should do absolutely anything except lean against the wall beside the door and close his eyes, listening.

There’s the rustle of fabric and a muffled thump, along with a gasp of _“Tina, be careful!”_ Percival smiles.  He pictures the two of them pressed close together in the small cupboard, a little cramped, but worth it.  They’ve been stealing away any moment they can get with each other, and Percival hasn’t missed the little touches when they think no one’s paying attention, the way Tina smiles when Newt is in the room, and the way Newt blushes each time Tina looks at him.  Percival is happy for them.  He is.  But really, a supply closet?

“Mr Scamander, if you don’t put your hands on me right now –”

“You’ll what?”

“I’ll – I’ll arrest you.”  Tina laughs, then moans as Newt must finally give in.  Where would Newt touch her?  Her calves, perhaps, working upwards, tracing over the delicate skin at her ankles and up the insides of her thighs.  Or placing light kisses over her stomach, hands holding her hips, sliding her shirt up out of her waistband.  Kissing the crook of her neck maybe, holding her close and murmuring into her ear, sweet things, things too quiet for Percival to hear.

Percival has no right.  He knows that.  He has no right to think of them this way, Tina’s one of his aurors for god’s sake.  But their intimacy burns right through him.  He tips his head back against the wall, letting the moans of pleasure wash over him and trying to tell himself it’s enough.  Trying not to let it cut him to the bone. 

Ever since he came back, it’s been… different.  Distant.  There’s been space.  He knows the reasons for it; people respect him.  They want to let him heal in peace.  That should be what he needs – some time and quiet to get his head together.  They respect his boundaries so well.  The only trouble is, he doesn’t remember making them.  He thinks, sometimes, that it’s more for their benefit than his.  He’s tainted by association, and by the things Grindelwald did in his name that he can never fully know or repent for.  It leaves a hollowness in his chest that he can’t fill alone.  He thought that throwing himself back into work would help, but being around his colleagues seems to just remind him of how little he has in common with them anymore.

He doesn’t even know what he was hoping for.  Closeness maybe, or affection, though he never needed all too much of that before.  He does crave touch, he can’t deny that as he stands listening to the echoes of passion and lust on the other side of the door, but he supposes that what he wants, in its simplest form, is intimacy.  Trust.  To be held together when he can’t stop the cracks from forming himself, because they do form, and as much as he hates to admit it some days he can’t stop himself from breaking apart.

Tina lets out a high, moaning cry, and the noises from the closet die down.  He hears Newt talking, too low for him to understand, murmuring into Tina’s ear as they put themselves back together.  Tina laughs playfully and the door handle beside Percival rattles.

He opens his eyes with a start, springing away from the wall and feet carrying him quickly down the corridor.  His heart pounds with the concern of being caught and with guilt over what he’s done, any momentary peace driven out.  He’s gotten several meters away, far enough, when he hears Newt and Tina in the hall.  He’s just passing by, it’s believable.  He doesn’t turn around.

Percival has a meeting with Scamander the next day, something about magic in urban environments.  Percival doesn’t completely understand why Newt is here – something about sharing strategies from other nations, though Percival is quite certain he’s never worked at the British ministry – but he’s not about to be the one to question it.  If Seraphina wants the hero of New York as a liaison, she can have him.

Newt corners him in the hallway afterward.  They end up trailing behind everyone else somehow, and Percival rather suspects Newt engineered it.  He crowds into Percival’s space and without thinking Percival steps back out of the way, but Newt only steps forward after him.  Percival is caught off guard.  He’s unsure of Newt’s intentions, unprepared for a confrontation when all he was thinking of is getting to his next meeting no more than ten minutes late.  He can’t help but worry about what Newt is going to say, because if he realized what Percival had heard… the guilt creeps up Percival’s throat, and the shame that he would resort to something like that sits cold in his stomach.

He finds himself backed against the wall, much closer to Newt than he is accustomed to being with other men, or other people in general for that matter, and it gives him the most peculiar feeling in his chest.

“Mr Scamander?”

“Percival.”  Newt is looking just under Percival’s right ear, and while the lack of eye contact might make anyone else seem distinctly unimposing, such is not the case with Newt.  “Would you tell me please, when was the last time you were touched in an intimate fashion?”

Percival chokes.

“What?”

Newt presses his lips together before he speaks again.  “I would like to know when you were last touched in a way which made you feel…”  Newt’s eyes flick up to Percival, and he settles his hands on Percival’s hips.  “Good.”

Percival’s mind seems to have ceased functioning.  All he can think about are Newt’s hands, and the sudden, overwhelming need he has of it.  Despite the bizarre circumstances, he feels his body start to relax.

“I don’t… Um,” He explains.

“I thought as much.”  Newt nods, almost business like.  “Are you aware, Percival, that touch is one of the most basic needs of many creatures?”

Percival swallows.

“Not even sex necessarily, though that can be a powerful drive as well.  Simple touch itself can have a crucial impact on the functioning of a being.  Going too long without it can cause irritability, feelings of isolation, difficulty with focus…”

Percival does not understand why listening to Newt talk as though he’s giving an introductory biology lecture is doing anything for him at all, save for the fact that Newt’s thumbs have started to move over his hipbones.  His breath stutters, and it takes all of his remaining self-control not to give in to the instinct to roll his hips forward.

“Do you understand?”

Percival is breathless, nodding, suddenly vividly aware that Newt has the advantage of height.

Newt considers him for a moment, then grins.  “Excellent.”

Newt is gone before Percival can demand of him what exactly he means by that, leaving him with a tingling in place of his palms and the rather odd feeling that he’s just been propositioned by his employee’s boyfriend.  Merlin’s beard.

Newt is just an odd enough sort that Percival can try to write off the whole encounter as something he need not think about again.  Or at least he could, if he didn’t actually want to think about it.  But he does.  As strange as it was it had felt good, and as much as he tries to tell himself to forget about it he can’t help feeling that it’s awakened some need inside him.  A need for care and gentle touches and things that as the Director of Magical Security he shouldn’t find himself needing.  He’s been given ample time after his rescue from Grindelwald, and he couldn’t fault the medics who had treated him.  He has surprisingly little lasting damage, all things considered.  He can still perform his job well, even if it now leaves him exhausted on a level beyond simple overwork.

Percival almost doesn’t notice the little changes over the next few weeks.  It’s not anything that would seem important if he were to say it out loud – Newt finding an excuse to clap him on the shoulder, drawing out handshakes for just slightly longer than necessary, reaching out with small touches that are almost casual.  And Tina, too.  She takes the time to brush the lint from his jacket, finds excuses for little moves that bring them into contact, and it’s driving Percival mad.  He knows he should think it strange, and in a way he does – these are people he works with, there’s no reason for it – but every time he feels their touch something in his chest starts to unwind.  It leaves him with an ache he doesn’t know what to do with, except that every time Newt or Tina’s hands fall on him it quiets down his mind.

It’s when Percival, Tina, and a few other of the senior aurors go for drinks one Friday evening that he realizes just how much he wants whatever it is he’s almost getting.  It’s been a long week – it’s always a long week, it’s a long month, it’s a long year – and Percival orders another round.  And another.  At first he’s aware of Tina keeping an eye on him, but he rather loses track after a while.  She’s somewhere on his left, and O’Connell is on his right expounding on the difficulties of raising wizarding children to Ilvermorny age without them accidentally burning down the house or inflating the cat.  Percival listens with a firm sort of attention that’s rather lacking an actual interest.

The club they’re in is noisy, an upbeat goblin band Percival didn’t catch the name of in one corner and the din of patrons trying to make their conversations heard over the top of it.  It pounds in Percival’s head.  There are so many people, and he might as well be back in his office.  He remembers when going out for an evening with friends or colleagues would leave him with the pleasant buzz of company and good conversation, a satisfaction.  He knows exactly when he stopped being able to feel it.  And if he orders one too many that night, no one is going to say a thing about it.

That is, until he tries to stand from his stool, sways, trips over himself in his search for balance, and falls into Tina’s arms.

“Oh dear.  It’s been a long night sir, let’s get you home.”

Percival nods, agreeing, but he doesn’t know to what.  He feels Tina’s arms around him, warm, strong, secure, and lays his head against her shoulder.

“All right sir, come on – oh!”

Tina staggers a little as Percival puts more of his weight on her, but she recovers her balance much better than he had.  Percival thinks people might be muttering behind him, but he doesn’t really care.  Tina steers them through the crowd and out the door, and Percival makes a surprised noise when the cool air hits his face.  Tina smiles.

He is feeling a bit off, perhaps it was time he turned in for the night.  He has more brandy at home anyway.  “Thank you Tina, I believe it’s… hmm… time to turn in for the night.  If you’ll be all right from here I’ll just be going, uh… home.”

He’s still pressed against her shoulder.

“Whatever you say, sir.  Hold tight.”

He does so gladly.  She’s warm and soft, and just exactly what he needs.

The squeeze and press of apparition is unpleasant at the best of times, and while intoxicated it’s worse.  Percival doesn’t realize what Tina’s about to do until he’s already standing in her living room, sagging precariously as she lowers him onto a couch.

“Back a bit early?  What’s this?”

“This dear, is one rather drunk, and I dare say lonely, MACUSA employee.”

“Ah.”  Newt leans over the back of the couch, obstructing Percival’s view of the ceiling.  “That appears quite correct.”

Percival reaches up clumsily, hand finding Tina’s forearm, feeling bereft at the lack of contact with her.  He considers sitting up, but the couch is surprisingly comfortable.  Tina exchanges what might be an amused look with Newt.

“Well, let’s get his coat off,” she says, a laugh in her voice.

Percival lets himself be propped up between them and shifted around as Tina tugs his coat from his shoulders.  With a flick of Newt’s wand Percival’s tie sails off and drapes itself over a chair, while Tina reaches over his shoulder to slip free the button at his collar.  Percival leans back against Tina’s chest, contentedly encircled in her arms, and all around, yes, that really is more comfortable.  He tips his head back against her shoulder and nuzzles into the side of her neck, too tired, too drunk, and too glad to be self-conscious.

“Tina, you… your hands’re nice.”

“Shush.  No talking now.”

Percival sighs in agreement and lets his eyes fall shut.  Newt’s hands are on his waist, sending a liquid warmth through him as they stroke up his sides.  His palms are warm on Percival’s chest, stroking him up and down, slow, gentle.  Percival drifts into sleep that way, laying back against Tina and held firm in her arms while Newt sends soft little tingles spreading across his torso.

 

\--------------------------------------

 

The room Percival wakes up in is unfamiliar.  It’s a little cramped but comfortable, and definitely not his apartment.  There’s humming coming from somewhere.  Percival pulls himself up to peer over the back of the couch, trying to ignore the ache in his head.  The first thing he sees is a bobbing pile of blonde curls.

Queenie?  Queenie Goldstein, Tina’s sister?  And then he remembers.

“Oh, good morning sweetie!  Want some tea?”  Percival barely has a chance to think about how to respond to that before Queenie continues.  “You prefer coffee, don’t you hon.  I can do that.”  And that is… very considerate.

In mere moments Percival has a steaming cup in his hands, somehow with exactly the right amount of sugar.  Percival spots the clock on the mantel over Queenie’s shoulder as she comes round in front of him, and is it really nine o’clock already?  Merlin’s beard, just how much did he drink last night?

Percival rather wishes Tina would make an appearance.  Queenie leans in again, smiling.  “I’ll get her.”  Percival has never seem someone exude quite so much cheerfulness, and it makes his head spin.

Queenie beams.  “Thank you honey, that’s so sweet.”  Queenie turns to call through a door, presumably leading to a bedroom.  “Tina!  He’s awake and he’s wondering if there’s going to be a lawsuit about last night.”  Percival closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, head throbbing.

The door opens and Tina emerges, looking slightly cross.  “Queenie, you are not helping.” 

There are perhaps more pressing issues, but the first thing Percival can think to say to her is, “Your sister.  She’s a legilimens.”

“That’s right sweetie,” Queenie calls from the kitchen.

Tina sighs.  “She keeps it quieter at work.  People can get uncomfortable of they’re not used to it.”

Percival nods, trying not to think that he can only imagine why, and wishing occlumency weren’t so difficult with a hangover.  “Well, thank you for the hospitality Miss Goldstein, but I really must –”

“Oh no you don’t.”

Percival stares at her.  He has not had enough coffee for this.

“Tina…”

“Does it look like we’re at the office, Mr Graves?”  Her expression makes clear that the question is not rhetorical, and Percival is suddenly aware as she stands in front of him that he has not yet risen from the couch.

“No.  No it does not.”

“And where are we?”

Percival shakes his head.  “Your living room.”

“Yes, exactly.”

Just then the front door swings open, and Newt enters with several bags of groceries.

“Tina, Queenie,” Newt greets them.  “Mr Pembrook had a bit of a run on carrots this morning, but I got the rest of it.”  Newt deposits the bags in the kitchen without so much as a glance to Percival. 

Despite the odd situation he’s on the edge of feeling slighted, when Newt returns and bends down to wrap a hand around the back of his neck affectionately.  “Good morning Percival.”  Newt straightens.  “Have you been taking care of him?” he asks Tina over Percival’s head.

“Queenie made him some coffee.  He only just woke up.”

“Well, let’s get him some breakfast then, can’t leave him hungry.”

It’s a strange feeling, being talked about as though he’s not expected to have anything to say.  Percival supposes he should be offended, but it’s not as though they’re actually doing anything objectionable.  It’s rather nice, actually.  _Taking care of him_ , Newt had said.  It gives Percival the sense that he can relax, and that he’s in good hands.  He doesn’t have to worry if Newt and Tina are taking care of him, he just has to let them.  So he doesn’t protest as Newt starts breakfast – really closer to lunch now – and Tina sits down on the couch with a book.

Percival eats the food set on the coffee table in front of him without delay.  Once he takes the first bite of toast he realizes that he actually is rather hungry, having slept through a more proper time for breakfast, and he wastes no time in starting in on his eggs.

When he finishes Tina guides Percival to lay his head in her lap, and he lets himself go easily.  He's still a little unsteady, but with her hand firm on the side of his head, drawing him down, it's hard to let his thoughts drift too far afield.  She doesn't speak to him, just picks up her book and props one elbow on the arm of the couch.  With her other hand she plays her fingers over his neck, his shoulder.  It steals his focus away, his thoughts caught on the gentle brushes of her fingertips.  It sends little bursts of warmth through him, and it starts to unwind the tangle of his mind.

Tina lifts her hand to turn a page and Percival tries to lift his head to follow, but she presses him back down.

“No, Percy,” she says distantly, as though already absorbed in the pages of her story.  The nickname sinks into his chest, a sort of warm shock.  No one calls him that, but at the moment he can’t remember why.

Percival puts his concentration into lying still.  He has the impulse to move, to adjust a bit and turn, but he would rather be still forever than dislodge her hand.  It's a comforting weight on him, a gentle pressure he's always aware of which keeps him settled.  He can't see her without craning his neck around, so he doesn't even try.

It's peaceful, and he lets his eyes drift shut.  He doesn't need to worry.  Tina’s hand leaves him occasionally to turn a page, but it always returns.  She traces absently through his hair, rubs over his shoulder, giving more of the sense that she wants something to occupy her hands than that she's thinking of what Percival would like.

It’s a pleasant way to spend the rest of the morning as his headache fades.  It’s warm in the apartment, and Tina’s fingertips on his skin keep his mind comfortably hazy.  All in all, it is perhaps the best way to recover from a night drinking he has yet experienced.  But by the afternoon he finds himself cognizant enough that he can’t quite keep himself in the moment of it without wondering about the nature of all of this, and the appropriateness.  This isn’t the kind of thing he’s supposed to allow himself to do.

The moment the tension creeps back into his muscles is the moment Tina lets him up.  Surprisingly, it’s not terribly awkward to say his goodbyes and make his way home.  He feels a bit dazed, like he just woke up from a very vivid dream which felt natural at the time, but now that he’s able to reflect on it was actually quite bizarre.  But somehow… still very pleasant.

Percival gets himself home and busies himself with reading through overdue reports.  Before too long he starts dinner and, after a brief consideration, decides against pouring himself a drink.  He’s feeling much more himself by the time he gets to bed that night.

But with the lights off, in the dark, the sensation of Tina’s hands keeps playing through his mind.

 

\---------------------------------------

 

The next time he finds himself at Tina’s apartment there’s barely even a pretense.  Newt asks him around for drinks Friday evening, and Percival accepts before he has a chance to second guess himself.

The two days until the agreed upon date alternately drag and fly past.  Newt and Tina act as though nothing at all were different, carrying on with their work and their lives exactly as they had before.  What exactly was it about seeing him that day in the hallway – because they must have seen him, there’s no other explanation – made them decide to do this?  Whatever _this_ is?  What is he getting himself into?

Percival stays late at the office on Friday.  He’d go home, but he’s… apprehensive.  So he takes the extra couple of hours to catch up on paperwork and keep his mind occupied.  The office quiets down around him, and before long he’s alone.  Not that he had all that much company before.

At seven fifty-one he replaces his quill and walks out through the halls of MACUSA. 

At seven fifty-six he appears behind Tina’s apartment building with a crack. 

At seven fifty-eight he knocks on her door.

Newt opens it.  “Ah, Percival.  Right on time.”  He beckons Percival inside, and Percival doesn’t know what he expected.  Tina is seated in the living room, a slight smile playing around her lips as Percival enters.  Neither of them are dressed in any remarkable way, looking for all the world as though they intend to spend a quiet evening at home.  Perhaps Percival misjudged the occasion.

And then Newt’s fingertips fall on the small of his back.  It lights up Percival’s spine, making him feel as though a current is going through him, and all it takes is that gentle touch.  Percival shivers as the sensations dance under his skin.

“Is Queenie…?”

“Out tonight.”  Tina rises from the sofa to place her hands on his shoulders and they occupy the entirety of his focus, everything narrowed down to the warmth of Newt’s fingers at the base of his spine and Tina’s hands holding him.

“Newt has this theory that a certain magical creature at MACUSA is not being cared for very well.  Seeing as he's a magizoologist, and having seen the situation for myself, I tend to believe him.”  Tina’s hands slide from his shoulders to his chest, pressing into the muscle, and coming to rest over his ribs.  “What do you think?”

Percival’s heart is racing, but his mind is still.  He’s not entirely sure if he knows what Tina’s saying, but he wants so much to be… cared for.  He wants to feel Newt and Tina’s hands on him, and it’s much easier to agree than to attempt to puzzle this whole thing out.  But still, it doesn’t feel… permitted.  Which is ridiculous, because who exactly is there to forbid it?

“I don’t –” He just needs to get his thoughts together, that’s all.  “I can’t ask for –”

“You’re not asking.  Newt is just making an observation, and we wonder if you agree.”

Percival nods before he has another chance to balk.  “Yes, I think so.”

“Good,” Newts says briskly.  “On the floor, then.”

“What?”  Percival feels the situation sliding out from under him just as suddenly as he thought he’d grasped it.  He has absolutely no precedent for this, and he can’t fathom what Newt wants.

“Come on now Percy, it’s all right.  You can trust us.”  And Percival dearly wants to.  Newt guides him a few steps back across the room to an arm chair, and when Newt sits he indicates a spot at his feet.  Percival only pauses for a moment before he kneels down.  It feels strange, but it also feels right.  The responsibility starts to ebb away as he lets Newt and Tina take control.

“Good boy.”

The words send a shiver through Percival and make warmth bloom deep inside him as he realizes that yes, he wants to be good for Newt.  He wants someone else to tell him what he needs to do, and for just a little while he wants someone else to hold the world together.  Newt twines a hand into his hair and draws him in between his legs, guiding Percival’s cheek to rest against his thigh.  Percival is calm, bracketed by Newt’s body, and he lets out a soft breath.

“That’s it,” Newt coos.  “You just relax.” 

Newt’s hand strokes through his hair, fingers pressing into his scalp and massaging down the back of his neck, and Percival feels his thoughts slipping away.  Newt and Tina are talking over his head, and Percival just lets the sound wash over him.  They’re discussing weekend plans or the news or some other topic which doesn’t concern him, and it’s not worth the effort to concentrate with Newt’s fingers massaging the sensitized skin of his scalp.  He lets his doubts fade away as his mind is lulled with the steady sounds and sensation.

He loses track of how long they sit like that.  Newt and Tina don’t talk to him, but they don’t exactly ignore him either.  When he shifts Newt settles him and his hand is a constant, reassuring point in Percival’s awareness.

He realizes, eventually, that the conversation above him has stopped.  He raises his head in the silence to see Newt looking down at him fondly.  He glances around to see Tina smiling before Newt slides his hand to the back of his neck and squeezes.

“Come on Percy.  Time for bed.”

Newt stands and Percival goes with him easily.  Tina’s at his back, sliding an arm around his waist and leading him to the bedroom, and Percival hasn’t had a thing to drink but his head is so pleasantly fuzzy.  Tina lays him out on the bed, and the next thing he knows she’s lying beside him.  The line of her body is warm and soft against his as her hands work down the buttons of his shirt, popping them free one by one.  Newt has started on his trousers, unbuckling his belt to slide them off, and Percival shifts a little with Newt’s hands so close to his cock. 

He feels exposed with his clothes gone, nervous in a way he hasn’t been in a long time, but somehow still secure in Newt and Tina’s care.  He shivers at the cold air, and suddenly Tina is above him.  She’s still clothed but so warm, and a sound escapes Percival at the feel of her body overtop of his.  The softness of her breasts presses against his chest, and his breath stutters when her hands skate over his sides.  She’s a well of strength, she always has been, so steadfast and determined and sure enough for both of them now.  Her lips find the base of his neck and he melts beneath her.  He can feel his cock starting to fill, and Newt must be able to see it.

The mattress depresses as Newt joins them on the bed and Tina eases up off of him, starting to unbutton her blouse.  Percival squirms at the loss of contact, and Newt lays a hand on his thigh.

“Shhh, shhh, I’ve got you.  Mummy’s here.”  Newt maneuvers Percival up to lean back against his chest, and Newt must have taken his shirt off at some point, because the contact is skin to skin.  Percival’s eyes fall on Tina, and she’s laughing.

“If you’re Mommy, what am I?”

Percival misses Newt’s response, because just then her blouse falls from her shoulders.  The lacy, pale blue bra which cups her breasts draws his gaze, and he’s far past attempting to deny it.  He watches as she continues to undress, unfastening her skirt and slipping it down past her hips, over her thighs, and finally letting it pool on the floor by the bed.  Tina’s left in her stockings, a sheer beige that clings to her legs and Percival doesn’t know how much more he can take.

Tina sees him watching her and smiles.  Newt is massaging his chest, pressing in firm over his ribs, his pectorals, rubbing deep circles that keep him loose and relaxed.  Tina’s rolling her stockings down, down from mid-thigh to her knee, to her calf, to her ankle.  Percival doesn’t know if he’s ever seen anything that makes is chest ache in quite that way.  Slowly, taking her time, Tina crawls up the bed towards him, settling herself to straddle his hips, and he is most definitely fully hard now.  Percival is pressed between the two of them, Newt at his back and Tina close against his front, and he reaches up to take Tina’s waist.

“Ah-ah.”  Tina pushes his hands back down, and Percival whines.

“Be good,” Newt murmurs in his ear.  And Percival wants to, but he doesn’t know how.  He doesn’t know why he can’t touch Tina.  “You’re not in control right now, Percy.  You don’t get to make decisions about what to do with your body.”

And oh, those words go straight to his cock.  Percival lets his hands fall to his sides with a groan, and he tips his head back against Newt’s shoulder as Tina brings her hands to his nipples.  She squeezes and tugs, rocking in his lap, and the sensation of it sends a shock down his spine.  She traces one fingernail underneath his pectoral, scratching ever so lightly, and he knows that he’s hers.  He must have tried to bring his hand up again because Newt grabs his wrist with a firm “No.”  Percival whimpers.  He just wants to be good.

Tina is so close to Percival that he can feel her hair tickling his shoulder, but he wants more.  He wants to feel her body pressed along his, to feel her lips and her hands, but he closes his eyes and lets the desire flow through his mind.  It’s not for him to decide.  He tries to be still, to let the sensations wash over him.

Tina mouths at his earlobe and he can feel her lipstick smearing, no doubt leaving dark pink smudges on his skin.  Newt is still holding his wrists down and Percival can feel him breathing, his chest rising and falling against Percival’s back, and Percival is lost in it.  Tina’s hands work down to his groin and his cock is aching, straining upwards almost painfully.  The head of it rubs against Tina’s cunt through the thin lace of her panties and Percival can feel how soft she is, pressing up into her folds, smearing precome obscenely over the delicate fabric.  He’s so close to her yet unable to do more, waiting breathless as she reaches behind herself to unclasp her bra.  The straps slip from her shoulders and she leaves it discarded on the bed, reaching up to massage her breasts herself.  Percival would dearly love to do it for her, to take her in his lap and cup her, squeezing her nipples and teasing the sensitive skin, making her moan with pleasure.

But she’s doing fine on her own, breasts cupped in her hands with her head tipped back, rubbing her damp slit up and down over Percival’s cock.  Percival could watch her forever, but this isn’t for his benefit.  It’s for hers.  She pinches her nipples as she grinds down on him, making little hums each time she finds friction on her clit, and it’s not enough for Percival but it also, somehow, is.

He feels Tina shifting over him, her weight changing as she pushes herself up to pull her panties off, and then something so soft and wet on the head of his cock.  Tina’s slit is so slick, rubbing easily against him as she rolls her hips forward to get pressure on her clit, pushing Percival’s cock up against his stomach.  Her wetness coats him, claiming him, marking him as hers.

Tina puts a hand on his shoulder, her breasts pressed against his chest, and she reaches down with one hand to guide his cock.  Her head is tipped forward as she lowers herself down slowly, taking her time as he sinks into her folds, cunt opening up around him.  Percival fights himself to keep his hips still, wanting to be good for her, wanting to be so good as the heat of her cunt envelops him.

When Percival doesn’t try to move Newt releases his wrists and wraps his arms over Percival’s chest, secure.  Tina gasps when she sinks down all the way and she leans forward, settling her weight over Percival.  Percival is panting and so is Tina, making breathy moans against his skin.

“Newt, oh Newt…”  Newt leans over Percival’s shoulder to kiss her and Tina’s cunt clenches around Percival’s cock.  It’s so much having the both of them, and the only thoughts in Percival’s mind are _god yes_ and _hold still._

He holds still for her even as she starts to move, pushing herself up and sinking down again, hips rocking forward and moaning into Newt’s mouth.  It feels so good, and Percival just lets himself relax and take it.  He doesn’t need to do anything, he just needs to be here for Tina to use as she likes.

Tina’s knuckles bump against Percival’s abdomen as she reaches down to finger herself, rubbing quick circles over her clit.  She’s so wet, slickness practically dripping from her, and the slide of her, the steady squeeze, takes Percival’s breath away.

Warmth pools low in his stomach as Tina’s movements quicken and he realizes all at once that he’s going to come.  But that’s not for him to choose, that’s not for him to decide, he’s certain it’s not allowed.  He makes a noise low in his throat, something between a whine and a moan, and Newt must realize what it means because he reaches one hand around Percival to squeeze at the base of his cock.  Newt doesn’t pull back from the kiss with Tina, not quite, but his lips are close enough to Percival’s ear that he catches the murmur of “Don’t you come yet Percy, not yet.”

He’s trying, he’s doing his best.  He squeezes his eyes shut, grateful for Newt helping to hold him back as Tina’s cunt spasms around him and her movements falter, a new wave of slickness rushing out of her as she cries out.

He’s still so hard, and when Tina pulls off of him it leaves him straining against nothing.  He can’t bear it anymore and he squirms back against Newt, he needs, he needs, he _needs_ …

“Shh, it’s all right.  It’s all right, Mummy knows what you need.”

Newt leans Percival forward and slides out from behind him, trading places with Tina to be at his front.  Newt doesn’t seem worked up at all, his movements calm and precise,   Percival can’t help bringing his hands up again, even though he knows he’s not supposed to, and Newt catches his wrists.

“Now, Percy.  Don’t make me be cross with you.  Are you going to do as you’re told?”

“Yes,” Percival gasps.  “Yes Mommy, yes…”

“Good.  Turn round then, that’s it…”

Newt positions Percival on his stomach, guiding him to lay out on the bed, and Tina takes his head in her lap.  With his head cushioned on her thigh he can smell the sweet, heavy scent of her cunt and god, she smells so good.  Newt is behind him somewhere with a hand on the small of his back, and somehow Percival feels like that’s all it would take to keep him pinned in place no matter how much he should struggle.  But he can’t imagine why he would.  Newt rubs his thumb at the base of Percival’s spine, and he moans.  He presses back into the touch at the same time he tries to rub his cock against the sheets, and he hears Newt chuckle.  Tina lays a palm on his temple, quieting him down.

“It’s all right baby, let Newt work.”

With some effort, helped by the steady pressure of Newt’s hand and Tina’s gentle tone, Percival stills his hips.

“That’s a good boy,” Newt croons, in the exact same tone Percival has heard him use for his creatures.  It’s incredibly soothing.  Newt is nudging his legs apart and Percival waits with anticipation for Newt to reach under him and touch his cock, but he doesn’t.  His fingers fall on Percival’s ass instead.  He rubs in deep, massaging the backs of his thighs, working his thumbs into the underside of his ass, kneading into the muscle until Percival’s legs are loose and relaxed and he’s sinking down into the bed under Newt’s hands.

Newt’s fingers find the cleft of his ass and spread him gently, and Percival startles at the unfamiliar sensation.  Newt lays a hand on his flank, smoothing his thumb back and forth.  “Shh, Mummy’s got you.  You’re fine.”

The advances of Newt’s fingers continue as Newt mutters a spell Percival doesn’t know, and suddenly there’s a thick slickness to the rub of his fingers that makes Percival groan.  Yes, he trusts Newt, he trusts Newt to know exactly what to do.  He gasps when Newt’s fingers press against his hole, unprepared for the deep sensation of it and needing it so desperately.  He makes himself lie still because it’s up to Newt, Newt knows exactly what to do, Newt knows what Percival needs better than Percival knows himself. 

Newt traces a finger around his hole, circling it just so, making him twitch in anticipation.  His fingers runs lightly down to press just behind Percival’s balls, rubbing, and then up again to press against his hole and tease until his ass is fluttering eagerly.  Percival wants is inside him so bad, he aches for it, and he twists his hands into the sheets on either side of Tina.  Newt finally presses in, so slowly, coaxing his hole open with gentle, shallow thrusts.  Percival whines and Newt eases in further, entering him easily, pressing deeper and Percival can feel his hole opening up around his finger, stretching to take it as Newt slides inside.  It’s a smooth, easy motion, and Percival sighs with the way Newt’s finger feels inside him.

He never knew this was something he needed, he barely even realized it was possible, and now he never wants it to end.

Newt fills him up until his knuckles are pressed against Percival’s perineum, and then he pulls back, slow, leaving just the tip of his finger is still inside and Percival _aches._ He wants to rock backwards as Newt tests his hole, pressing lightly at his entrance to gauge how loose he is and Percival can feel his ass opening up like he was meant to be fucked, opening up for Newt, he wants Newt’s cock in his ass, dear god.  But he’ll be good, he’ll be good for Newt and he’ll wait because Newt knows better than he does and it’s all right, it all perfectly all right.  And Newt starts to press in again _._   He works Percival like that, focused and intent on opening him up, pumping his finger in and out until Percival’s hole is loose and open, ready for more.  Newt adds a second finger, and a third, opening him up and stroking his insides, taking him gently and completely.  The stretch is new, not quite like anything he’s felt before, and he’s never been quite so vulnerable as this.  He doesn’t know what Newt’s going to do next, he can’t control what happens with his body and he doesn’t need to.  It’s not up to him anymore.

Tina keeps stroking his hair, his cheek, watching Newt with a smile and leaning back against the pillows.  She looks the picture of comfort, and Percival barely notices as he squirms in her lap.  He’s just aware of her touch, her reassurances, and the way she grounds him.  Newt and Tina are the only things left in his world, Newt working him up, taking him higher and higher still, and Tina holding him firm, keeping him calm.  He needs them both.

Newt presses his fingers down, rubbing inside him as though search for something, and – something lights up inside Percival.  It connects straight to his cock, making him jerk in Tina’s lap and _god,_ it flashes right up his spine.

“There you are.”

There he is.  Newt rubs his fingers over that spot inside Percival, gentle but persistent, and Percival can feel the warm pleasure of it spreading through his whole body.  It’s building inside him and he squirms with it, it’s filling him, blooming through every part of him.  He whimpers into Tina’s lap, it’s all so much.

“Just relax and let it happen.  Just relax Percy, you’re doing so well.  It’s completely natural, don’t fight it.”  Newt’s tone is mild, slipping through the haze of pleasure in Percival’s mind and reassuring him.  Newt knows exactly what he’s doing. Percival can’t stop the whimpers that escape him as Newt’s fingers work in and out of his hole, it overwhelms him, but there’s comfort in the fact that it’s not his choice.  Newt decides what’s best for Percival’s body, and all Percival has to do is lie back and let Newt do as he wants.  It almost seems absurd that he should do anything else.  It feels like it’s Newt’s right, and this is Percival’s place.

The pleasure mounts unbearably, rising and spreading along his nerves and Newt just doesn’t stop until he’s brought Percival as far as he can and it crests.  It spreads through Percival in slow, heady waves, his cock twitching beneath him as it washes over him and through him, deep in his muscles and melting him completely in the face of Newt’s ministrations.  The moment seems to stretch on forever, he could be floating off the bed or out to sea, he doesn’t know, he just feels the pleasure and Newt working him through it, Tina holding him firm.

A pleasant dizziness leaves his head buzzing, and everything seems a bit muted as the sensations start to fade.  It leaves him warm and so very tired, limbs loose and relaxed.  He whimpers softly as Newt pulls out of his lax hole, feeling odd and uncomfortably, distressingly empty, but Newt just pats his hip and stretches out beside him.  Tina moves as well, shifting on the bed until Percival is pressed between the two of them, sleepy and content.

“Hmm, pretty boy,” Tina hums, looking at Newt.  “You should have seen his face when he came, he’s probably never felt anything like it.”

“Ah, well next time I’ll have to turn him around.  Was he good for you?”

Tina giggles and sighs, sounding content.  “You saw _my_ face Newt, what do you think?”  Tina settles in beside him before she adds, “So good, staying hard for me.”

Percival flushes to hear them talk about him this way, but he wouldn’t have them stop for the world.  He’s glad, so glad for the both of them.  But as Newt tucks in beside him, pulling the blankets up over them, he has the nagging, distant feeling that something’s been left out.  He feels the warmth of Newt’s body and presses his hands up to Newt’s chest, wanting to make Newt feel good too because he hasn’t yet, has he?  Tina and Percival, but not Newt.

Tina wraps and arm around him from behind, trapping him back against her and gently stopping his movement.

“Newt’s fine baby,” she murmurs.  “Don’t you worry, just rest now.  You’re so good for us.”  With a wave of her hand the dim lights of the room are extinguished, and Percival lets himself sink limply into the mattress.  He doesn’t understand but he doesn’t really need to, he just needs to do as Tina says.  Her praise echoes in his thoughts and the worry slips from his mind as quickly as it came, leaving him calm and at peace in the soft darkness of Newt and Tina’s bed.

 

\---------------------------------------

 

Percival isn’t sure if it’s the sunlight falling across his face that wakes him up, if it’s feeling Tina shifting beside him, or if he simply isn’t tired anymore.  It’s so easy that he isn’t sure it matters.  The bed is warm, and it’s so comfortable to curl in the heavy blankets beside Tina, to breathe in her scent and feel her the ends of her hair on his shoulder, her hand resting on his elbow.  He stirs, and Tina pulls him closer.  He rolls to face her and nestles his head into her hair, tucked under her cheek, and Tina laughs at him.  It’s a warm sound and Percival smiles, his face hidden.  Her hair tickles his neck, and he doesn’t mind at all.

He can hear Newt moving somewhere beside the bed, already up and dressing.  Percival wishes he could have shared the bed with both of them in the morning, that they could spend long hours bathed in sunlight and aimless contentment, but it’s not about him.  Or it is, but it’s about what they give him, not what he wants.  He savors the way the blankets feel against his skin, still naked after last night, and

Percival raises himself half to sitting when he hears Newt leave, a bit hurt despite himself at the lack of attention after last night, but Tina lays a hand on his shoulder, drawing herself up drowsily.

“Newt will come for you when he does his rounds, baby.”  Tina slides the blankets off of herself as she pushes Percival back down into the bed, snuggling him into the pillows.  “You just stay for now.  All right?  Stay.”

Percival… Percival can do that.  He’ll wait here for Newt to take care of all his creatures and give him the care he sees fit, and he’ll accept it gladly.

He watches Tina across the room as she dresses, gesturing in a complicated way with her wand to smooth down her hair and magicking stray creases out of her clothes.  Before he knows it she’s the impeccable image of a professional, striding out of the bedroom in time for her day.  He closes his eyes end lets himself drift, knowing his place.  It may change later.  Eventually Monday will come and he’ll go back to the office and head his department, and he’ll be in charge again.

But not today.  Not right now.

**Author's Note:**

> I’d love a comment if you liked it, they keep me inspired!
> 
> Find me at [ mercurial-tenacity.tumblr.com ](http://mercurial-tenacity.tumblr.com/) :)


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